


Synesthesia

by Lady_Michiru



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Sexy Zone
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 21:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Michiru/pseuds/Lady_Michiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Synesthesia</b> (syn·es·the·sia)<br/>n. 1. A condition in which one type of stimulation evokes the sensation of another, as when the hearing of a sound produces the visualization of a color.</p><p>Kento has a migraine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Synesthesia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This one is for Mandy, because she writes us porn and she deserves to get more porn written for her (also, she betaed this, her own gift fic *_*)

A quarter past ten, a couple of hours after the world stopped spinning and almost half an hour after the pain began its recession, the sound of someone knocking on the door brings him completely out of his lethargy, the almost trance the new medication puts him in.

He stands up and pads slowly toward the door; everything feels sluggish and drawn out, like walking through a very thin kind of jelly, all the sounds out of synch and faraway. The night is cold and he can taste it on his skin, metallic neon and salty grey, shifting and blending at each of his steps.

It’s not a big surprise when it is Fuma who turns out to be at his door, looking tired and a little concerned even with thick rimmed glasses and his hoodie pulled up.

"Hi," Kento tries to smile, but the jelly that is the world twists a little and he loses his footing.

Fuma steps up just in time to catch him, and he feels like giggling as he navigates them to the near couch. Fuma smells warm, it makes everything turn golden, smoky, bubbly, and the spinning comes back a little, but somehow it’s alright.

“Damn, you’re so stoned,” Fuma says softly, and this time Kento actually smiles, never mind that his face is against Fuma’s chest, that he can't see him.

“I’m not stoned,” he replies, needlessly. Fuma knows everything about his headaches, the little ones that he can manage, the others, the ones he can endure. And he knows about these, the ones that leave him blind and kind of crippled, when he needs to flee to find refuge among the darkness and the silence. “The med’s just too strong…”

"Does it even help?” Fuma asks. Fuma’s hand has absentmindedly begun to caress Kento’s hair, which should strike him as strange -somewhere, in the magical place where most of his consciousness is still sleeping it maybe does-, but it feels too good to stop him, so he just leans into it some more.

“Yeah..." Kento whispers, steadying his voice against a heavy sigh because Fuma's hand has now drifted to lightly brush the back of his neck. "It doesn't really hurt anymore. But I feel… strange." _Tingly all over, and everything is swaying; and you smell the way cinnamon tastes of,_ but he doesn’t say that.

Fuma seems to simply accept it nonetheless, because, for a while, only the steady sound of their breathing mars the silence of the room.

"You need to stop,” Fuma says, suddenly. At the same time his hand stops moving, the stillness forcing Kento to look up at him, genuinely confused.

“Stop what?”

“This,” Fuma says, relocating to a distance that is way too close to look at Kento’s eyes, raising both hands to Kento’s temples and softly stroking his thumbs against them with circling motions. “You need to stop doing this to yourself."

“I can’t do anything about this and you know it.”

“You overwork yourself, that can’t help much, can it?” Fuma says in an accusatory way, and Kento begins to defend himself but Fuma continues before he can form the words. “When was the last time you sat down and ate? Not reading some script, not writing some shit for Uni or some endless novel for that damned jweb, just ate? Hell, when was the last time you slept more than four hours straight? You’re not a child anymore, Nakajima; you should take better care of yourself.”

He knows it’s out of concern, but Fuma’s words still hurt a little. This, it seems, is the worst downside of the new medication; it's not just about sparkly colored sounds and all his body buzzing, it also leaves him feeling more psychologically vulnerable than he’s ever felt in his whole life.

“I am dreaming, right? It’s not like you to be like this.” Kento whispers past the knot on his throat, because, come on, this is Fuma. He never gets this emotional over anything.

“You collapsed on the damned floor...” Oh yeah, there was that, and Fuma’s voice is raspy with concern when he reminds him of it. Fuma’s hands, now on Kento’s shoulders, grip him tightly for a second, then he sighs and his touch relaxes along with his tone. “How was that supposed to make us feel?”

Kento closes his eyes against the onslaught of emotion, there is a rawness in Fuma’s words that brings tears to his eyes, and he fights to leave them unshed. “I’m sorry. But it really wasn’t as bad as it seemed...”

“I was worried,” Fuma softly cuts him up. “I was too damned worried. This time it wasn’t like every other time and I just…”

“I’m not used to these pills yet,” Kento says apologetically, lowering his face. When he looks down he realizes his fingers are idly playing with the hem of Fuma’s hoodie, but he doesn’t stop. “I shouldn’t have taken them without testing them when I wasn’t at work. I’m sorry.”

Unexpectedly, Fuma drags one of his hands to Kento’s chin, lifts it up to make him look at him. “Don’t leave me alone like that again, ok?”

And this is really surreal, dizzying beyond any migraine or drug, the troubled, almost desperate look on Fuma’s eyes. He is tempted to ask him to turn on the light to check if it’s really him, but the atmosphere has become so thick he can’t will himself to joke about it.

“You weren’t alone, Fuma,” Kento says, because he needs to say something, and because it’s true. “I am sorry to have caused you trouble, to all of you. But there are five of us in Sexy Zone, I’m not indispensable.”

“Yes, you are, you idiot!” the exasperation is plain on Fuma’s voice, and it seems Kento’s heart knows something his brain doesn’t, because it’s beating faster and faster even though Kento doesn’t really understand what is happening. “You are… to me. I need you...”

The last part is only a whisper, but Kento’s eyes are so used to darkness by now that every other sense is in overdrive. He feels the heat of Fuma’s blush and the golden air around him explodes in sparks even before Fuma leans forward and his lips brush his forehead.

The unexpected ardor that fills him confuses him, and he quickly pulls away to look at Fuma through blurry eyes, because somehow his tears have found a way out.

“Don’t cry,” Fuma says, awkwardly wiping away his tears with his thumb, “it will make your headache worse.”

“I told you, the headache is gone. Now I’m just hallucinating.”

Fuma chuckles, sparkly gilded caramel and a touch of hidden relief. “Good things at least?”

“Best hallucination ever,” Kento rests his forehead on Fuma’s, circles his waist with his arms. It’s not a comfortable position, but it feels nice; it feels right. He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, reveling in the strong taste of cinnamon and warmth.

Then Fuma leans forward to kiss one of his tears, and that feels even better.

It is a natural progression, Fuma’s lips on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth, and when Kento turns his head a little it just feels like going with the flow, really. It is still electric when their lips meet.

It’s slow, so very slow, like they both are having trouble believing this is actually happening. Kento’s eyes are firmly shut but all the colors are still there; Fuma’s lips softly caress his and he feels giddy and about to burst out giggling, and the annoying tears threaten to show up again, all at the same time.

He can feel Fuma’s breath on his lips when they come up for air, heady, and there’s a secret smile he can feel in there, despite the darkness. It speeds up his pulse, makes his senses soar through the remainder of the narcotic feeling that still has him surrounded.

This really outweighs anything he ever dared to imagine, every fantasy he always forbade himself to have because, what was the point? He never thought Fuma would feel the same way about him, and all this adds to the unreality of the situation.

“What was that?” Kento asks, but his hands fist on Fuma’s clothes and he doesn’t back away.

At first Fuma’s only answer is to surround him with his arms.

“I was scared,” Fuma’s words are spoken against the skin of his neck, sending shivers down Kento’s spine and everything is so intense, that the only thing Kento can do is hang onto Fuma’s back, hug him closer. “I know you get headaches all the time and I know you’re getting treated but when I saw you fall I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I panicked. I realized I just couldn’t imagine the world without you in it,” Fuma backs down a little and cups his face with his hand. “I had to come here, see that you were alright.”

“I’m fine,” assures Kento, but Fuma’s words have really gotten to him. He turns into his caress, kisses the palm of his hand. “I’m really, really sorry."

Fuma’s answer is another kiss, but this one is way more urgent, almost violent. Fuma´s fingers bury themselves on Kento’s hair, and the way Fuma’s body is trembling tells Kento exactly how difficult it was for him to tell him all that, to open up to him like that. So he responds, breath to breath, and when Fuma’s tongue forcefully traces his lower lip, demanding access, he can’t help but let him in. The soft noise Fuma makes as his tongue meets his glints and dances in the air.

It only gets more heated after that. Fuma’s kisses are fierce, his lips exploring his mouth, his tongue massaging Kento’s relentlessly, leaving him breathless. When he needs to come up for air, Fuma drags his lips to his throat, his teeth lightly grazing the skin all the way up to his earlobe to bite it, and Kento secretly wishes they leave a mark, something he can look at tomorrow and know this wasn’t some crazy trick of his mind.

At some point, Fuma’s hands begin roaming Kento’s back, leaving tingling traces behind, making Kento’s body react in a way that can no longer be described as innocent as the heat starts quickly pooling between his legs. Kento wonders briefly how Fuma’s fingers will feel over his naked skin, then realizes he wants to know how *Fuma’s* skin feels under his hands, and he dives under the soft material of Fuma’s hoodie, happily discovering that only an undershirt separates him from his objective.

Fuma’s hiss of approval sounds green, and despite his aroused state, or maybe because of it, Kento can’t suppress a giggle at the unexpected change in the color scheme.

“What?” Fuma tries to feign annoyance, but Kento lightly brushes the same spot at the small of his back and the fevered hiss is back, giving him away and making Kento smile soundly again. “What is it?”

“I told you I… feel a little strange.” Kento says simply. He doesn't want to explain to Fuma that the sounds are color, not now at least, when there’s a chance he’d want to stop because of it. “Everything is kind of intense.”

“I… maybe I should go,” Fuma rasps as he tries to pry away from Kento’s grasp, but he isn’t really trying hard and gives up after just a second when Kento doesn’t let go.

“It’s alright, Fuma. I’m not drugged. I’m not drunk. I’m not in any kind of pain, either. And I really want to feel you…” the last sentence just slips past Kento’s lips, and he covers his mouth with his hand, his expression half shocked and half amused at having said too much, but Fuma just chuckles and takes his hand away, pecks him on the lips.

“I don’t know why, but I’m having trouble believing you are not in any kind of altered state…” Fuma says. “And I really should go now.”

Kento lets go of Fuma’s clothes to take one of his hands instead, guide it to his lap. He looks at their intertwined fingers, illuminated only by the moon and the city lights. “Don’t go. Please. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to…”

“That’s the problem… “Fuma’s thumb brushes his, lovingly. “There are too many things that I *want* to do…” despite his somewhat bold words, Fuma’s voice sounds a little embarrassed.

“Then stay,” Kento replies, trying to sound sober in spite of the way his mind is spinning, for reasons that are so far from the meds it should be scary. He stands up slowly, so the dizziness doesn’t come back and ruin everything.

He never lets go of Fuma’s hand, who follows him in silence all the way to his bedroom. This is actually easier without light, Kento thinks, as he reaches his bed and lays himself down on it, softly dragging Fuma with him, over him. He feels Fuma’s heavy breathing, the heat of his body, the sharp gasp when his body covers his and he can clearly feel the rapidly hardening bulge in Kento’s sweatpants.

Everything is a little bizarre, because the world never really stops swaying, not even with Fuma’s weight over him, as steadying as it is. It just makes everything ripple, like he’s floating on the sea. But all over his body the sensations are raw and too intense, and when Fuma’s hips move a little against him he has to bite his lip not to scream.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding about wanting this…” Fuma all but gasps, the little hypocrite, like Kento couldn’t feel his erection aligned with his through his pants.

“I kind of... have wanted this for a long time now,” Kento says anyway, a little sheepishly. “Is that weird?”

“Too weird,” but Fuma is already kissing his neck again, biting at the juncture with his shoulder, and that will definitely leave a mark. Kento sighs, smiling.

The pain feels too good, and Kento’s hips rub against Fuma’s without him really meaning to, seeking friction and moaning when he gets it.

They reaccommodate, Kento’s thigh coming between Fuma’s as he plants his feet on the mattress, looking for leverage, trying to deepen their movements, because everything is quickly becoming not enough.

Fuma’s moans echo light blue, softly filling the room and is beautiful. Everything, the way he moves and the soft sounds he makes, the way he tastes, and the way he kisses, like he can’t get enough of Kento no matter how hard he tries.

They are overly overdressed, Kento decides, and begins tugging up Fuma’s hoodie, clumsily trying to pull it up. Fortunately, Fuma catches on quickly, ridding himself of his upper garments and helping Kento to get out of his T-shirt too.

Fuma dives for his lips then, and it’s a shock when his bare chest finally comes in contact with Kento’s skin, a wave of pure sensation that makes Kento evade Fuma’s kiss and hug him instead, rejoicing in this heat, in this new emotion.

Fuma seems a bit thrown off by this. “Is everything alright?”

“It feels so good,” he tries to explain, “being like this.”

Fuma just holds him closer, tighter, and for a while, that’s all they do, and Kento marvels at the hammering of Fuma’s heart against him.

Moments afterward, however, Kento seems to notice all the skin that expands before him and licks at Fuma’s throat, breaking the stillness and creating motion again. They unconsciously try to build a rhythm, slowly this time, as they kiss and touch every bit of flesh they are able to reach.

Kento’s hands brush lightly over one of Fuma’s nipples and he hisses, arching up beautifully, so Kento does it again, and again, wetting his fingers and pinching them alternately while he sucks at his earlobe or nibs at the flesh behind his ear, playing Fuma like some kind of exotic instrument, every different noise fueling his own passion, drowning him in sound until the room is a symphony of green and blue and wavy gold, breathtaking and magnificent.

They somehow manage to clumsily get out of their pants and boxers without anyone getting injured, and Kento cups Fuma’s naked ass, presses him toward him to grind their cocks together. It feels good and they work a new strange pace, deeper and slower. After a few wrong slips though, Fuma takes them both with one of his hands and begins jerking them off in sync with their movements.

Pleasure sings all through Kento’s veins, making his toes curl. He could finish just like this; he thinks, in fact, that soon he will if they keep this up much longer.

“Do you want to come like this?” Kento manages to ask with a strangled voice he doesn’t recognize as his own. “Because we can… if you want to.”

“I…” Fuma begins, but he has to stop a second to gasp at a pointed movement of Kento’s hips. “I could but… god, Kento. I want to be inside you.”

It’s almost too much, hearing his name in that raspy, desperate tone form this person, but he wasn’t kidding about wanting to feel Fuma. So, he pushes back the looming release, and uses every ounce of willpower to make himself move one of his hands to stop Fuma’s ministrations.

“Okay,” he whispers, breathlessly, as he drags his hands to Fuma's hips, stilling them and holding onto them. He bites his lip, trying to think past the lust clogging every thought process. “Okay.”

Fuma shifts, rest his forehead against Kento’s. “Do you have…?” his blush is adorable. “Stuff? Anything we can use?”

“You didn’t plan this...” Kento replies, his eyes widening.

“Of course I didn’t!” Fuma exclaims. “I only came here to make sure you were alive!”

“I didn’t plan this either,” Kento lets out then, in a small voice.

Realization dawns quickly over Fuma, who is not so quick to hide the disappointment from his face. “So? Maybe... just like this, after all?”

“No!” Kento almost whines. And this could be funny if he wasn’t this tense, but there’s a maddening throb inside him and he honestly thinks he’d die if Fuma doesn’t have his way with him. “Wait.”

Kento takes Fuma’s hand, guides it to his lips, and Fuma stares scorchingly at him when he sucks a finger past them and into the warmth of his mouth.

“You are crazy…” Fuma groans.

Kento just moans around Fuma’s fingers and Fuma closes his eyes when Kento fumbles with his hand and guides a second finger into his mouth. He grazes them with his teeth and sucks around them, wets them as thoroughly as he can before opening his mouth and letting them slip away.

Fuma looks at his glistening fingers that rest against Kento’s lips as if they were something alien for a couple of seconds.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Fuma gives his fingers a last lick before hurriedly lowering them down, searching blindly for Kento’s entrance before they dry. He pushes in with one of them, as slowly as he dares.

It takes a while, and maybe Fuma doesn’t go as fast as he could in spite of Kento’s encouraging moans and the way he begins pushing into his touch after a while. Fuma’s stretches him thoroughly, infuriatingly slowly, driving him crazy with want.

“Fuma?” he pleads, his voice wavering because it feels like he’s been hard forever, and everything aches emptily, and he needs Fuma. Now. “Please?”

“Okay…“ Fuma gives in, at last. “I… don’t have any condoms with me, do you…?”

Kento could laugh at Fuma being the most unprepared lover in history, but he catches the slight tremor of his hands, the part that isn’t desire or anticipation wreaking havoc on his nerves.

“Have you done this before?” he asks, softly.

Fuma shakes his head, and he suddenly *looks* eighteen, all the bravado gone, just a boy, just as him. It makes Kento’s chest fill with emotion and things that are rapidly becoming less and less scary.

“Not even girls?”

“No,” Fuma smiles a little self-deprecatingly, “it just never did work and… can we discuss this later?”

Kento sighs and feels his own cheeks turn a pale shade of pink. Typical of them, he thinks, obstinately choosing the worst time for confessions. “I’ve never done it before either… so… I guess we’re fine?”

“You think we are rushing things?” Fuma asks, but he is at least half teasing.

Kento’s expression is dead serious, though. “If you stop now, I swear I’ll kill you”

“Okay,” surprisingly, Fuma doesn’t keep joking about it. Then, Kento feels him twitch against his entrance and thinks he knows the reason. “Please tell me if it hurts”

Kento nods, unable to talk, the atmosphere suddenly charged again, and he reaches out for Fuma’s hand as he slowly pushes inside.

It burns a little, and the stretch feels a bit weird, but Kento is so relaxed that there’s hardly any pain. He wraps his legs around Fuma’s hips, tries to urge him to go faster, but Fuma is as stubborn as he is and takes his time. When he is finally all the way in, Fuma lets go of the breath he was holding.

“Fuck… so tight… I… just… fuck…” Fuma’s incoherent words return to being golden, but Kento is just too overwhelmed to fully appreciate it.

This feels right, feels natural, and he needs to kiss Fuma, messily, fiercely, because he wants to fuse his body with him in all the ways that are possible. Fuma seems to feel the same as he kisses back just as passionately, his fingers threading a little too roughly into Kento’s hair, already dampened by sweat. It feels good, and Kento’s back arches lightly in response, making Fuma move inside him, and every nerve terminal in Kento’s body flare up.

“Sorry,” Fuma apologizes, misreading his sharp intake of breath.

Kento just squeezes Fuma’s fingers. “Move,” he orders, and then adds, “please,” because a distant part of his brain reminds him that Fuma doesn’t deal that well with being bossed around.

Fuma’s hips are even more skilled at this than they are at stage performances, Kento quickly discovers as Fuma moves carefully inside him. It should be touching, and at some point it is, the way Fuma treats him as if he was going to break; but Kento wants nothing of it. He wants Fuma, all of him.

So he digs his heels into Fuma’s back, encouraging him to go faster, deeper, a little rougher. He claws at Fuma’s back, marveling at the full range of Fuma’s colors, at every moan and gasp, mapping them out, learning. He wants it all, and all his being rejoice at the way Fuma slowly loses control, clings forcefully to Kento’s shoulders and kisses him, sloppy and wet and wonderful.

Then Fuma’s angle shifts, brushing something inside of him that makes the Universe condense in a single spark of pleasure that shots through his blood.

“Fuma… again….” he forces out, “do that again.”

“Okay,” Fuma groans, pushing visibly harder through the resistance of Kento’s body, trying hard to comply, though his rhythm is beginning to falter. “Kento… I’m too close, I’ll…”

“Wait for me…” Kento’s hand wraps urgently around his own cock, jerking himself quickly toward completion. “Almost…”

He can’t finish the phrase, because Fuma leans forward and bites his shoulder to muffle his final grunt as he comes, painting the world purple, and the pain and the feeling of Fuma pulsing inside him finally tip him over the edge, toward such strong an orgasm he can’t even moan.

Fuma collapses over him and Kento hugs him, burying his face on Fuma’s sweat soaked hair, inhaling deeply as he tries to come back from his high. After a while, Fuma turns his head and lazily begins to rain small kisses over his cheek.

“Why are you crying?” Fuma asks, propping himself on his elbows to look at Kento, who stares at him with wide questioning eyes.

“I’m not crying,” Kento argues, but Fuma precariously lifts one of his hands and drags it to his cheek to collect a teardrop there. He shows it to Kento before raising his hand toward his own lips, and Kento shivers when Fuma licks his finger, tasting the salt of it. “Damned pills.”

Fuma laughs, and crashes over Kento again, pinning him with all his weight. Kento loves it.

“Let me take care of you,” Fuma whispers softly into his ear as his hand searches for Kento’s hand, gently caressing Kento's fingers to show he doesn’t mean just now, that this is a long term proposal.

Kento is well aware of all the trouble this could cause, and of every obstacle ahead of them, but for now he can’t care.

“Yes,” he says, wrapping himself tighter around Fuma, and no longer fighting the stupid tears that swell in his eyes.

Then Fuma kisses him again, and in his kiss he can taste the color of happiness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first Fumaken fic, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments are love <3


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